


Release

by emungere



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Orgasm Control, Prostate Massage, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:00:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8982988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emungere/pseuds/emungere
Summary: There was this post on tumblr about platonic cuddling and prostate massage and how we should switch them up. This is (more or less) platonic prostate massage. As unconventional therapy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Разрядка](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227067) by [ViEwaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViEwaz/pseuds/ViEwaz)



Will stood under the ladder in Hannibal’s office. He had his arms wrapped around himself and felt like he might fall apart if he let go. Hannibal was talking about stress relief, nothing Will hadn’t heard before, but it was slightly less enraging from Hannibal. At least he had a nice voice. 

“Yeah, tried it,” Will said. He hadn’t been listening to the specifics, but it didn’t matter. He’d tried just about everything.

Hannibal gazed at him, spread out and leaning back in one of the chairs. “I can’t say I would recommend meditation for you in any case.”

“Great. So what would you recommend?” 

“Sex,” Hannibal said. 

Will looked over at him and blinked. “Okay. I wasn’t expecting that one.” 

“Masturbation is marginally effective, but partnered sex causes the body to release significantly more oxytocin, lowers blood pressure, and increases immune response over time. The immediate effects can last up to a week.” 

“So you’re telling me to go out and get laid once a week?” 

“A regular partner would be ideal.”

Will leaned against the ladder. “Sure. No problem. Why not get married while I’m at it? That’s about as regular as it gets.” 

“Have you had difficulty in finding a partner, or have you chosen not to look for one?” 

“A followed by B.”

“I take it you find the idea distasteful?” 

“I don’t find the idea of sex distasteful,” Will said. “Just the part where I have to find someone who’s interested in me first.” 

“Is that really so difficult? You are very attractive.” 

That brought Will up short again, and a few seconds passed in silence before he managed a reply. “Maybe it’d go better if I kept my mouth shut.” 

Hannibal regarded him calmly. “Has that been your experience?” 

“I’m not here to talk about my love life.”

“No. We were discussing stress management techniques. This was the only one that caught your attention.” 

“Because I’ve heard everything else a thousand times before.” Will rested his forehead against the smooth wood of the ladder. “It’s not happening. Move on.” 

“I could propose an alternative,” Hannibal said. 

Will looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “What kind of proposition are you talking about?” 

“Nothing personal. A simple arrangement. I would not propose it with every patient, of course, but I do believe that unorthodox forms of therapy can yield results, especially in unorthodox cases.” 

Will turned slowly toward him. “You want to elaborate on that?”

“Will you come and sit down?” 

“I think I’m supposed to leave at this point,” Will said, but he was drifting toward the chairs despite himself. “Probably report you to someone.” 

“Are you going to?” 

“May as well get the specifics first.” 

Hannibal looked amused. “Very sensible. The specifics, then. I would remain clothed. You may be as dressed or undressed as you please. I would provide you with sexual stimulation to the point of orgasm and physical contact afterward.” 

“For the good of my mental health,” Will said. 

“And in the spirit of experimentation, yes. I admit I’m curious to see what effect it might have.” 

“And not because you find me attractive?” 

“You are attractive. That is a fact, not a personal opinion. It may have some weight in this situation, but it was not the deciding factor.” 

Will looked away. He rubbed his damp palm against the leather armrest. “What kind of sexual stimulation? Are you just — going to give me a hand job? Or what?” 

“No, something with a higher degree of intimacy would be more effective. Prostate massage, I think.” 

Will swallowed. “Well, that just went from zero to a hundred.” 

“If you would prefer something else, I am open to suggestions.” 

Will was quiet for a long time, but he wasn’t thinking. He couldn’t. His answer had already formed in his brain, and eventually he had to let it out. “Okay. Where do you want me?” 

"Either the chaise or over the desk I think."

Will looked between them. He did not want to be on his back on the chaise looking up at Hannibal. The desk seemed safer. He got slowly to his feet. "We're doing this now?"

"Unless you would prefer to wait. I will try to be as neat as possible, but you may wish to remove your trousers.”

Will moved to the desk and stood behind it while he took off his shoes and then his pants and then, finally, his underwear. He stood there in his socks and shirt and felt an anticipatory tightening in his stomach, a premonition of arousal. The room was cool enough to raise goosebumps on his thighs, but he started to warm immediately under Hannibal's gaze.

"Place your hands on the desk and bend forward if you would."

Will obeyed. Hannibal locked the office doors, entrance and exit. He moved behind Will and pushed up his shirt to bare his ass. He stroked up and down Will’s back, lengthening the stroke each time so that it soon reached from Will's shoulder blades down over the curve of his ass to his thighs. Will rested his head in the cradle of his crossed arms. He saw only the top of the desk and tried to keep his mind as blank as his field of vision. 

"Good," Hannibal murmured. 

Will heard a bottle being opened. "You keep lube in your office?"

"Almond oil. For my hands. Winter is so drying, don't you find?"

Will opened his mouth to answer and made a high inarticulate noise instead as Hannibal slid two slick fingers between his cheeks and over his hole. He sucked a breath in through his teeth. 

"Don't tense up again now. You were doing very well," Hannibal said.

One finger pressed in, and Will didn't have time to tense up again before it was entirely inside him. Hannibal found his prostate immediately. His finger circled around it, rubbing at the edges, and Will's toes curled into the floor. 

"There. How does that feel?"

"Good. Fuck. It's good."

"Then just relax. Tell me if there is anything you need."

It was a horribly light tease, one finger and barely any pressure. Will almost said he needed more, but it felt so good as it was that he wasn’t sure he wanted more. At least not yet. He was getting hard. Every time Hannibal nudged his prostate, it made his cock twitch. Will reached for the far edge of the desk and gripped it. The grain of the wood blurred in front of his eyes. His body clenched involuntarily around Hannibal’s finger. 

“Again,” Hannibal said softly. 

Will did it again. He shifted his hips, wanting it deeper. Hannibal pulled them back an inch and set a hand on Will’s back, pressing down so that his hips tilted up. His foot nudged Will’s, widening his stance. Will arched his back and rocked deliberately onto Hannibal’s finger. 

“You’ve done this before,” Hannibal said. “Not, I presume, with a former therapist.” 

Will let out an amused breath. “Not with a therapist.” 

“With another man?”

“A few,” Will said. 

“You enjoyed it?” 

He pressed in harder, and Will let out a soft sigh. “Yeah. God. S’been a while.” 

“You can have this from me whenever you like,” Hannibal said. “At every appointment if you wish.” 

Will looked back over his shoulder. Hannibal’s eyes were fixed on the place where his finger entered Will’s body. There might have been the faintest touch of color on his cheeks. “What if I want it more often than that?” Will said. 

Hannibal blinked once before he managed to look at Will’s face. “I suppose we might come to some arrangement.” 

Will only got a second to think about that before Hannibal started working another finger into him and all his attention was on his body and the present moment. The stretch was exactly what he had wanted, so much so that he groaned with it, long and low and unrestrained. 

“You are taking this more easily than I thought you would.” Hannibal paused. “The situation. Not the act itself.” 

“In for a penny,” Will said. “Might as well—“ He took a quick breath as Hannibal slid his fingers in a torturous circle. “Uh. Enjoy myself. That’s — that’s the point, right?” 

“It is.” 

Hannibal kept up those slow circles over Will’s prostate. He scissored his fingers wider. Will nearly whined with the stretch and found himself sliding back for a firmer touch. He rocked his hips once and swiveled them, seeking. 

“Shall I stay still and let you move?” Hannibal said. 

Will swallowed and rocked back again. He shook his head. “Don’t stop. Give me more.” 

“More inside you?” Hannibal said, very low. “Or more of this?” He rubbed his fingertips more firmly over Will’s prostate, on the edge of too much. 

“Fuck. Both. I want to come.” Will wiped a hand over his face. He was sweating a little. The room no longer seemed cold at all, and he wished he’d taken off his shirt. His cock bobbed untouched, only occasionally grazing the edge of the desk, leaking freely. 

“Can you come from this?” 

Will nodded quickly. It was better with a hand on his cock too, but there was something about this situation that he didn’t want to change. He liked the idea of coming apart like this, with only Hannibal’s fingers inside him. “Just, a little faster—“ 

Hannibal obliged. He rubbed Will quickly, lightly at first but growing firmer until Will started to pant. Hannibal kept it at that intensity as Will scrabbled at the smooth surface of the desk for something to cling to. His breath steamed the glossy wood. He pressed his nails into the finish. His balls drew up tight and his skin tingled and then he was there, coming with a low groan on the side of Hannibal’s desk and on his rug.

Hannibal kept up the steady motion of his fingers through it until Will had to reach back and push at his hand. Even then, Hannibal didn’t stop and Will had a few seconds of shuddering oversensitivity before his whole body convulsed one more time. 

“Fuck, enough, enough,” he said. He lay across the desk while Hannibal pulled his fingers out. A blanket was draped over his back. Hannibal’s footsteps departed and returned. He guided Will over to the couch and drew him close. Will let himself slump bonelessly against Hannibal’s side and pulled the blanket close around him. 

“How do you feel?” Hannibal asked. 

“Fantastic,” Will said. He yawned. “Also like I could sleep for a week.” 

“You may if you wish. I will wake you when our hour is over.” 

Will squinted up at him but could read nothing on his face. “What are you getting out of this? Don’t lie.” 

Hannibal looked at him for a long time. He brushed Will’s hair back from his forehead and drew him closer. “I don’t know,” he said. 

Will believed him.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning after he’d let his psychiatrist finger his ass until he came, Will got himself off in the shower thinking about it. He thought about how readily Hannibal had agreed to the idea of extra sessions. He thought about the greed in Hannibal’s touch. He stroked his cock and turned his face up toward the water and imagined Hannibal telling him he wasn’t allowed to come again until his appointment next week. He came against the shower wall nearly as hard as he had the night before.

Later that day, at work, he thought about it again. He got hard thinking about it and had to sit very still in his office and concentrate on paperwork because the alternative was jerking off in the men’s room, something he had never even had cause to consider doing in the entire time he’d worked at Quantico. The problem was that he could hear Hannibal’s tone and phrasing down to the stress of each syllable as if Will were bent over the desk in his office again and Hannibal was speaking in his ear. _It’s only for a week, Will. You can resist temptation that long, can’t you?_

Photographs of two dead men from the midwest blurred in front of his eyes. He saw the pattern of Hannibal’s rug and the wood grain of his desk, smelled the light scent of his aftershave. Felt the brush of Hannibal’s wool pants against the back of his bare thigh. 

He had no reason to wait until next week. But he had no reason to do this at all except — except that he’d enjoyed it. Except that it had felt good and he wanted to do it again and Hannibal — there was something Hannibal wanted from this, and Will couldn’t quite grasp it. 

And, honestly, he had slept better last night than he had in weeks. It might actually be genuinely effective therapy. That clearly hadn’t been the primary drive behind Hannibal’s proposition, but six solid hours of sleep was nothing to sneeze at, no matter how he got it. 

In bed that night, he put his hand on his dick through his shorts. After a few minutes, he moved it away again. 

\\*

The rest of the week was an odd sort of test, one that he hadn’t meant to set himself and had committed to without conscious thought. The day of his appointment, he had to take a cold a shower when he woke up. His morning wood had been augmented by a vivid dream of Hannibal bending him over his desk and fucking into him while a dinner table full of guests watched and ate canapés. The colors had been fever-bright, Hannibal’s suit a glowing red and his walls all shining with stained glass saints and demons. 

Will had woken in a sweat from that one as he did from his nightmares, but at least he hadn’t wanted to scrub out the inside of his own head. He even considered telling Hannibal about it. 

When Will got to the office that evening, he was still fifteen minutes early. He paced outside in the cold, watching his breath steam past his face. He’d thought about not wearing underwear. He’d thought about buying lube, doing some of the prep work himself. He’d thought about so many things, and now that the moment was here he realized that he’d never thought Hannibal might have changed his mind. 

“Will? Won’t you come inside?” Hannibal stood at the door to the building with a warm light framing him. Will knew, looking at him, that he hadn’t changed his mind. 

“How’d you know I was here?”

“I saw you from the window. Come. It’s cold out.” 

Will followed him up and into the office and then the door was closed behind them. They were alone, and Hannibal was taking his jacket for him, which he’d never done before. His hands lingered on Will’s shoulders. 

“I didn’t jerk off this week,” Will said. He felt Hannibal’s fingers flex as they slid down his arms and fell away. 

“Were you waiting for this?”

“Yeah.” 

“It wasn’t necessary.” 

“But you like the idea.”

“Do I?” Hannibal hung up Will’s jacket on a coat rack near the door. 

“You want me to want this. You like that I’d take it further on my own without you pushing for it. Were you going to push for it? Was that the next step?” 

“I had considered it.” 

They stood across the room, watching each other. 

“Now what?” Will said. “Do we skip to stage three? What’s the end game? What do you expect to get out of this?” 

Hannibal was silent. 

“Do you want to fuck me?” Will said. 

“No.” 

“Okay. Then what?” 

“We could discuss it afterward.” 

Will looked at the desk. He didn’t think he’d be that interested in discussing anything afterward, but he was getting hard already, hard for third time that day, and he didn’t want to ignore it anymore. He sat down on the chaise to take off his shoes. In his peripheral vision he saw Hannibal’s posture shift subtly toward relief. 

“You’ve never had sex with a patient before, have you?” Will said. 

“Technically speaking, I haven’t had sex with one yet.” 

“They wouldn’t throw out the malpractice suit on that technicality.” 

Hannibal leaned against his desk and watched Will take off his pants and underwear. “No, I haven’t. I never considered it until I met you.” 

Will wanted to ask what about him exactly had put this scenario into Hannibal’s head, but he didn’t. He walked to the desk and leaned over it. Hannibal moved in behind him. He set a bottle on the desk, real lube this time. His palms settled on Will’s ass, a light touch that grazed downwards over Will’s thighs. 

“Come on,” Will said. “I’ve been waiting.” 

“That was your choice.” Hannibal picked up the bottle nonetheless. His fingers slid between Will’s cheeks, warm and slick. “You must be quite frustrated by now.” 

Will’s breath caught. He shuffled his feet wider apart. “You could say that.” 

“Why did you decide to wait?”

“I — didn’t.” Will squeezed his eyes shut. Hannibal pushed one finger slowly into his body. “I just — thought about it and then. Thought about you telling me not to, and. And I didn’t.” 

“Would you like it if I told you not to touch yourself in between our sessions? If I forbade it?” 

Heat crept up the back of Will’s neck. “You’d like it. Wouldn’t you?” 

“Yes. But we’re not speaking of me.” 

Hannibal found his prostate and rubbed the tip of his finger around it. Will gripped the far edge of the desk. He banged his forehead gently against the smooth wood. “Yes. Don’t know why, but yes.” 

“Then don’t,” Hannibal said. “Between this evening and next week, you may not masturbate. Your only release will be here, at my hands.” 

Will couldn’t stifle the low, harsh sound that pulled from him.

Hannibal laid his free hand at the small of Will’s back. “And if you find yourself in need between now and then, you may call for another appointment.” 

Will ground his forehead against the desk, open-mouthed, breath fogging the wood and bouncing back hot against his face. He was so hard that he ached with it, not just in his dick and balls but in his chest and all the way up to his throat. He already knew he’d make that call at least once. 

Hannibal continued to rub over Will’s prostate in a slow and steady tempo, not quite even, as if he were keeping time to music. Or trying to drive Will out of his mind. 

“More,” Will said. He tried not to make it sound like begging. 

Hannibal worked another finger in and then, more slowly, a third. Will flattened himself against the desk and pushed back. Hannibal opened him up, and the stretch loosened something in Will’s head. He let himself groan again and then he was making noise with every quick thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. His skin tingled and his thighs shook. 

“Do you want me to stimulate your penis as well?” 

The clinical language and Hannibal’s cool tone made Will’s cock jerk up and leak against his belly in a way that he didn’t want to think about just then. Or maybe ever. “Fuck. No. Will you just—“

Hannibal moved his fingers faster. His hand pushed down on Will’s back to keep him in place. The pressure and pleasure built to something intolerable that made Will want to whine and plead and then it spilled over and Will was coming in wrenching spurts against Hannibal’s desk. 

He felt winded afterward. The little noise of loss he made when Hannibal pulled his fingers out made him flush. He lay across the desk, limp, eyes closed. He wasn’t sure he could stand up. 

He didn’t have to, at least not on his own. Hannibal helped him up and pulled him over to the couch. He unbuttoned Will’s shirt. Will didn’t protest when he slipped it off. It felt better to be entirely naked, like he was giving up some pretense. Hannibal wrapped a blanket around him and pulled Will into his arms. 

It was so easy to settle against him, like they’d done this a hundred times. Will laid his head in the hollow of Hannibal’’s shoulder, and it felt natural. The brush of cloth against his cheek was soft and cooling. 

“You prefer me not to touch your penis,” Hannibal said. 

Will shifted against him, trying not to respond to that cool, precise tone. “It’s not that. I just wanted to come without it.” 

“Because it is more difficult?”

“Does it matter?” He paused. “If you want to that bad, you can.” 

“Now?” 

Will couldn’t see his face from this angle and wasn’t sure he wanted to. He just nodded. He could feel the flush spread up his neck when Hannibal tugged the blanket aside to reveal his spent cock lying limp against his thigh, still a little sticky. 

Hannibal cupped it in his palm and moved it from side to side for a complete examination. If Will could’ve gotten hard again, he would have. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Looking at you,” Hannibal said. 

“Not just looking.” 

“Indulging my senses then. Do you object?” 

Will shook his head. Hannibal shifted his cock to one side and pressed his thighs wide. He handled Will’s balls carefully, one at a time and then both together, cradled in the loose grip of his long fingers. Will watched the shine of his nails and wondered if he got them manicured. 

“I want to come back tomorrow night,” Will said. 

Hannibal let him go and smoothed the blanket back into place. “You will have to call and make an appointment during office hours.” 

Will wet his lips. “This might be the most fucked up thing I’ve done in my life.” 

“What else is in the running?” 

“Stole a car once when I was fifteen. It was just sitting there, running, unlocked. I drove it around town for an hour and left it back where I found it. So damn lucky I didn’t get caught.” 

“Is that the worst thing you’ve done?”

“Legally speaking, yeah.” Will paused. Hannibal rested his cheek against the top of Will’s head. Maybe it was just the oxytocin, but the intimacy of it made Will’s eyes burn for a second. He swallowed hard. 

“Worse than this?” Hannibal asked. 

“I didn’t say this was bad. Just fucked up.” 

“I’m pleased it hasn’t added to your store of guilt.” 

“Has it added to yours?” 

“There is very little for which I feel guilty.” 

That was an interesting confession. Will looked up, but all he could see was the underside of Hannibal’s jaw, which didn’t tell him much. “So where is this on your fucked up list? It’s got to be pretty high.” 

“It’s certainly unwise on a number of levels.” Hannibal pressed a kiss to the crown of Will’s head. He sounded detached, as if he were speaking of someone else’s foolish choices. “But I cannot bring myself either to care or to stop.”

The words lodged in Will’s chest with a sharp stab of joy. “Good,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can check out my [original writing here](http://www.eleanorkos.com/) if you're interested. This is my tumblr: [emungere.tumblr.com](http://emungere.tumblr.com).


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